


parsley, sage, rosemary, time

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Category: Disney Fairies, Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Canon Timeline, College, Elemental Magic, Fae & Fairies, Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, Magic, Magical Realism, Modern Era, Time Travel, Timeline Shenanigans, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-09 19:22:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16455818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: Her father sent her to University and she was Changed.





	parsley, sage, rosemary, time

When her summer home was built, it was upon flat ground. 

The fairy hill came later. 

She heard the jingling bells as they whispered in her ears. They played together day in and day out, only returning home for refreshments of sugar and cream.

The little cardboard houses always had tenants, the beds of matchboxes and cotton swabs fixed every morning. She covered them with sheets of metal propped up with chicken wire fences when it rained.

Flowers bloomed as she passed at the tiny, delicate hands of those who were too shy to show their faces. They never spoke, but she loved them all the same.

Her room was littered with tiny bottles of golden dust. It flew up when she threw herself onto her bed and settled on her skin and in her hair. There were still bootprints on her ceiling from all those years ago.

The first she'd met still came to visit, and when she did, she had an assortment of plastic buttons, silver coins, iron springs, and copper wire to offer for her latest projects.

Her shelves had filled up with research journals. She rarely shared them, but they held a special place in her heart. Her father would occasionally flip through them as she slept.

Her father sent her to university, and she was Changed.

She studied the old myths and legends, but refused to believe them. She knew the truth, and nothing would tarnish her friends' good name. 

When her father became ill, they gave her herbs to help him. She sent them to London, wrapped in newspaper and tied together with twine, along with her usual letters. She planted some of the parsley in a pot and kept it on the windowsill in her dorm room.

When she stopped receiving letters in return, they came to her aid, wiping her tears and peppering her face with tiny kisses. They asked her to fly with them, and she obliged, despite the grief tainting her happy memories. They brought her to where they grew their herbs and weaved some of the leaves into her braids. She cried, and they took her back so she could rest. There was a pot of sage on her sill beside the parsley when she awoke.

When her grades began to decline, they taught her what they could. They made a small fire in a glass bowl and burned some of their herbs to cleanse the air. Delicate hands wove a bracelet from rosemary leaves and their magic kept it alive so long as it stayed on her wrist.

When the school year came to a close and she couldn't bear the thought of returning to an empty cottage, they gave her time. They brought her into the library. The shelves were lined with research manuals and memoirs. Most were published, but a few were simply composition notebooks stuffed in haphazardly. She pulled them out and poured over them and tossed them aside because she knew that the facts presented within were not the truth.

The longer she spent there, however, the more things changed.

Newer and newer books were added to the Library's collection. The Archivist, ever watchful, kept an eye on her as she read everything on the shelves. She wasn't lost; she always kept an eye on the door, in case she needed to leave. But she was certainly Lost. Although she  _could_ leave, she simply didn't. She learned her way around the computers when they arrived. She somehow got her hands on a phone of her own. 

When she left the Library, the world around her was not the only thing that had changed.

The jingling of bells followed her wherever she went, protecting her from all that would do her harm.

She continued to construct little houses — for her architecture class, she said — with removable rooves and matchbox beds.

Flowers bloomed in the cracks of the pavement as she passed. 

Her eyes, once plain brown, now glittered with gold in the sunlight.  

The first she'd met still came to visit, and when she did, she had an assortment of plastic buttons, silver coins, iron springs, and copper wire to offer for her latest projects.

She pulled her research journals from the box under her bed. It was dusty beyond reason after all the time she'd spent reading. She flipped through them once again and added them to the Library's collection.

"Hey," someone said as she neatly placed her books on the shelves, "d'you know anything about the Good Neighbors? Like, _good_ Good Neighbors?"

She smiled, taking the first of her journals from the shelf and handing it to her classmate. "This is a good place to start."


End file.
